


You Just Keep On Using Me, Until You Use Me Up

by FakePlastikTrees



Category: Damages
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-16
Updated: 2012-08-16
Packaged: 2017-11-12 07:22:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/488217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FakePlastikTrees/pseuds/FakePlastikTrees
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Patty is still going to the lake house, Ellen is still staying in her apartment, but no one attacks her. Patty forgets something and comes back to the apartment, only to find Ellen in a--compromising position in her bed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Just Keep On Using Me, Until You Use Me Up

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place during season 1

******

 

_My friends feel it's their appointed duty,_

_They keep trying to tell me all you want to do is use me_

_But my answer to all that 'use me' stuff_

_I want to spread the news, that if it feels this good getting used_

_Oh, you just keep on using me..._

_Until you use me up_

_\---------Use me_

 

*********

 

Ellen can't believe she's here. She can't believe she's in Patty's guest bedroom, changing into her pajamas, getting ready for bed. She knows what everyone in her life would say. She knows, somewhere in the back of her mind, that they're probably right.

 

All these things about Patty...they're only terrible things depending on how you look at them.

 

That she's ambitious and sometimes cruel, it's true. Well, she's ambitious anyway. Cruel? Ellen isn't sure about that yet. Her adversaries are quick to call her heartless and narcissistic and a man-hater. Ellen's favorite is "controlling, single minded, power hungry cunt". Ellen remembers, as she pulls her hair up in a bun, that she laughed when she first heard that.

 

After all, how can that possibly be an insult if it gets the job done?

 

Sure, she's had her share of disagreements with Patty, she was even positive she would never come back and work for the woman again. Ellen had even come up with a few colorful adjectives of her own to describe Patty Hewes. But Ellen's learned that you don't get to be 'Patty Hewes' without conviction. And Patty Hewes has conviction. She's a woman. And in their line of business, a woman has to be stone cold and stubborn, even more so than any man. That's what it takes to survive.

 

Patty uses people.

 

Patty's used Ellen.

 

But Ellen can't bother with letting that bother her. The look--that look--that Patty gives her is reward enough. Ellen can't help it. She is drawn in by any fraction of affection she can get from the older woman. Ellen wants to be around Patty. At all times, so that she doesn't miss a thing. Not just that, but she thinks she needs it.

 

Patty's presence comforts Ellen somehow, and while she can't really explain it, to herself or anybody else, the tingling in the back of her neck that she feels when Patty is close feels too good to pass up.

 

Ellen wonders down to the kitchen and helps herself to a glass of water. She thinks about David and the ring. She feels angry. She can't bother with feeling sad when she's been left to her own devices in the home of none other than Patty Hewes.

 

She takes in the decor, everything in its place, everything precise and spotless. Just like every aspect of Patty's professional persona.

 

Ellen smiles at this. She wonders if Patty's ever been frantic. Somehow, she doesn't think so. She leaves the glass in the sink and doesn't bother to rinse it. She does this on purpose because it makes her feel like she is allowed to do this, as if she fits into Patty's jigsaw puzzle of a life somehow.

 

Finally, exhausted, she heads back upstairs and stops in mid yawn when she finds herself in Patty's bedroom. She looks around. The bed is made, there are lilies in a large vase on a dresser that sits at the far end of the room. Without so much as a single consideration as to whether or not it's acceptable, she walks across the floor and smells the freshly cut flowers. She walks along every corner. Nothing is a miss, nothing out of place. A pair of diamond earrings sit atop the dresser and Ellen touches them briefly. She's seen these on Patty before. They bring out her eyes.

 

Moving onto the walk in closet, she studies the neatly folded clothes, another vase filled with lilies and the only thing that isn't perfectly put away. A white silk robe.

 

It's comforting to know that maybe, on some level, Patty is just a little bit careless. This makes her more  human somehow and Ellen's heart is so full suddenly that she sighs and leans over to pick up the slippery robe.

 

She lifts it to her face and breathes her in. That tickle in the back of her neck is there again and before she knows what she's doing, Ellen is slipping on the robe and then climbing into Patty's bed.

 

She can't figure out which is Patty's side. So she flips a mental coin and guesses left. The pillow doesn't smell like her. It smells like fabric softener. Ellen curses the clean sheets immediately, but settles comfortably under them anyway, even snuggling against the pillows before closing her eyes momentarily.

 

Suddenly she can't sleep. Minutes tick by and she feels restless. Her eyes open and after a beat, she lifts the collar of the robe she's still wearing and breathes in deeply. This time, it fills her. And she feels it everywhere.

 

What 'it' is she isn't sure of because it is NOT anything sexual. How can it be? That would be weird. But there's no one to question her here, so she allows it to embrace her. The silk of the robe is cool and caresses her skin delicately. It makes her feel--the way that Patty makes her feel. The way her words made her feel earlier before the blonde left for the weekend.

 

That strange mixture of security and endangerment. As if Patty Hewes alone could destroy all of Ellen's beliefs and rebuild them into something different. It's invigorating.

 

It's erotic as hell.

 

She slips her hand under the thin cotton tank top she's wearing and brushes her knuckles across her abdomen. She pretends it's Patty touching her and she sighs.

 

Patty's robe slides off one shoulder and so she slips her hand higher to palm her breast, then the other, slowly until she's breathing heavily and her hips are shifting underneath the heavy comforter.

 

She feels suddenly hot and she kicks off the covers with one swing of her leg before her hand slips easily under the waistband of her pants and lower to where the neatly trimmed hair is already damp with her arousal.

 

Licking her lips, she traces her slit, slowly, teasingly, once and once more dipping it inside and rubbing upward to that spot--just briefly before pulling back out and then in again.

 

Patty would tease, she thinks. And when Ellen runs a slick digit all along her own cunt, she imagines that it's her boss.

 

She plants her feet on the mattress and parts her knees, continuing her slow teasing until she's sighing and moaning and lifting her hips in search of release. She's so lost that she doesn't hear the front door open, or the hurried footsteps up the stairs, or Patty--who is frozen in the doorway, watching in shock. She thinks she hears Ellen moan her name and this makes Patty gasp.

 

Ellen hasn't heard it but Patty would rather die than to let Ellen stop, so she does something she thinks might make things all the better, and says, "Go ahead."

 

Ellen must be hearing things. She must be, because there's no way--unless--she wants to stop, she's ready to run out of Patty's apartment, out of the tristate area and flee forever to never return. But she hears it again, "Go ahead, Ellen." And suddenly it's very real. She can feel her in the room. She can smell her. And when she opens her eyes and spots her in the doorway, she catches her breath, and manages a breathy, "Patty--"

 

Patty's breathing is shallow. She's double parked outside and she still has to leave after this, so Ellen needs to hurry up. "Finish, it's okay..." She says, managing to keep the edge off her voice.

 

That does it. Patty crosses her arms and against the back lighting of the hallway behind her, Ellen can tell Patty's breathing is heavy. She seems almost impatient.

 

Biting back a groan, Ellen arches her neck and wastes no time in pumping two fingers in and out in a quick motion, making sure to press the heel of her palm against her clit. Turning her head, she tries to find Patty's face, but the shadows hide her completely and so Ellen screws her eyes shut and fucks herself harder, deeper until she can feel her knuckles and she presses down against her clit.

 

She comes with a choked cry and her hips jerk violently for several minutes.

 

Patty watches the entire thing, and when Ellen seems to have stilled, she walks across the room without another word or a glance in the young woman's direction and grabs her earrings off the dresser.

 

When she leaves, neither woman is entirely sure of what's just happened. Patty hopes Ellen doesn't want to talk about it when she gets back, and Ellen hopes next time, Patty will touch her. She also hopes Patty will let her return the favor. She sleeps soundly in Patty's bed that night, and when Patty calls her the next day to check on her, Ellen tells her so. They don't talk about anything else.

 

*******

 

 

 


End file.
